


House Rules

by therealfroggy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M, Ownership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:56:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House has such annoying house rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	House Rules

Gregory House knew how to drive people crazy, Wilson thought as he drove them both to work. He'd be needing some Vicodin himself if he was going to last another week.

Fine, he was staying with House in his apartment. Okay, so he was invading the grumpy bastard's personal space. And yes, he was sleeping with him.

But House was doing his level best to annoy the younger man at every turn, and Wilson just didn't get how he could justify his behaviour – towards the man he was sleeping with, no less.

In the morning, House made coffee for one, leaving Wilson to make his own. He took his time reading the morning paper, doing the crosswords until Wilson didn't have time for more than the headlines before they had to leave. House barricaded himself in the bathroom and spent half an hour brushing his teeth.

Whenever Wilson commented on any of this, House gave him an annoyed look and sarcastically told him that “Casa del House has rules. Like it or leave.”

House would never bottom or give head. Wilson hadn't really expected him to, but he was still tired of doing all the dirty work, so to speak. Not to mention that Wilson would have liked to think of them as more than friends, while House had them clearly labelled as fuck buddies.

House was, in short, one very annoying bastard.

***

That evening, Wilson promptly ignored House when the older man gave him a meaningful look and headed for the bedroom. He was hell-bent on not following House's stupid rules.

“Are you coming, or do I have to take care of business myself tonight?” House called. Wilson could hear his belt being undone.

“I'm not coming. Play by yourself; I'm sick of your stupid rules.”

Wilson decided to simply sulk. He knew nothing would annoy the older man more.

There was silence. Then House came thumping into the living room with his cane, wearing only his shirt and boxers.

“What?” Wilson said, not lifting his gaze from his book after registering his friend's presence.

House didn't answer, but sat down in the couch next to Wilson. They sat in silence for a few moments. Then House quickly leaned over and snatched the book from Wilson, throwing it on the coffee table.

“Hey! I was reading that!”

House paid his protests no mind, but latched onto Wilson's throat and nipped playfully, tonguing the skin in a way he _knew_ would drive the younger man wild.

“Shove off, House, I said -”

“I heard you. I'm not deaf. I just don't care.”

“I said I wasn't coming.”

“Well, that's what I was going to do something about.”

Sighing in defeat, Wilson slid his hand into the older man's hair. House had a thing for biting and leaving hickies everywhere; Wilson didn't even get to kiss him. So he used to fist his hands in the older man's hair.

“No, no touching,” House said, pulling away. “Sit still, don't move and don't touch anything.”

Wilson groaned. It was going to be one of _those_ nights.

House bit and nibbled across the younger man's collar bone, then simply sat back and removed both their shirts.

“Follow the House Rules, Wilson,” House said, almost smirking.

“Do I at least get to -”

“No, you don't get to do anything. Now lift your ass, I can't reach anything with your jeans in the way.”

***

House Rule number two: House had first call to the bathroom. Wilson obeyed.

House Rule number three: House did not give head. Wilson did.

House Rule number four: House wanted sex _at least_ four times a week, and if Wilson didn't, House would have it on his own – very loudly – in the bedroom, regardless of whether Wilson was there or not.

The next night, House again gave Wilson the look, but when Wilson blankly refused to follow him into the bedroom, House shrugged and went to take care of business on his own.

When Wilson had been listening to the masculine groans and pants for almost ten minutes, he offered up the last dregs of his self control and moved quickly to the bed, shedding clothing at high speed as he went.

“Move,” he told the other man, looking hungrily at the naked body stretched out on the bed.

House didn't move, so Wilson had to lie practically on top of him. He straddled the older man, mentally preparing to bottom like he always did, but House stopped him.

“Lie down, Wilson. On your back.”

Puzzled, but following House Rule number seven – House was in charge during sex – he complied.

When House leaned over him, Wilson got apprehensive. When House squirmed down the bed until he was threateningly close to Wilson's groin, Wilson didn't dare move.

When House took him deep into his mouth, Wilson moaned. And when House demanded, “Say it. Say, ´House owns me`,” Wilson moaned louder and said it.

When House swallowed, Wilson sank back on the bed, groaning, and let House spread his legs because he was too tired and surprised to straddle the older man.

When House came, Wilson volunteered a heated, “House owns me.”

Panting, they rolled apart, legs untangling and arms releasing.

“You broke House Rule number three,” Wilson said, still shocked.

“Rule one has precedence over all others,” was the gruff reply.

Ah. Of course. Wilson should have known.

House rule number one: House does whatever he damn well pleases, whenever he wants.


End file.
